


W I S H

by Risabliss



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: 19 days - Freeform, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 20:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7121008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risabliss/pseuds/Risabliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of mischief, lust, hatred and love in equal measure, and boys being boys under the scorching heat of Hangzhou.</p><p>(Originally posted in Wattpad, under the name 'Sumi-chi'. Updates are more frequent there.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He didn't know why, but it seemed like the entire universe was against him. Maybe, that's what most people his age thought. He was nothing special. Fucktards, the lot of them. There wasn't any reason why he had to slave through life, for he couldn't envision a future where his desires and aspirations would come true. It wasn't anything fancy like the royal shit that he kept seeing on television, though - something quiet and unassuming, where no one would come and pester him like insistent crows, and a place where his dad could find solace from all the moneylenders that trailed after him like swarming flies.

The sunlight filtering through the open windows highlighted the specs of dust floating about him, and he leaned against the wall, clutching the handle of his broom and using it as a stand. There was a brief outburst of excited female voices, before the sounds in his ears got reduced to faint murmurs. Someone switched on the fan in the classroom, and there was an indignant cry.

"What are you doing, you retard?! We jus' swept this-"

"Oh my god, do we have to sweep this mess again-"

"Haha, who was in charge of the sweepin' today, Fen Shang?"

"Don't ya look at me. Speaking of which, where is the flaming idiot?"

The red-haired, lean boy in question opened his eyes, tugging on the collar of his shirt. A couple of girls brushed past him, averting their eyes as they always did. Sometimes, he wondered whether he had a sun on his forehead. Perhaps that was the reason why people turned away from him. Maybe the glare hurt them too much, those people. He had menacing eyes, the eyes of a troublemaker who wished to cause havoc, they said.

"I am not cleaning that shit." He said evenly, propping the broom against the wall and sticking his hands into his trousers.

"You are supposed to-" A sharp, nasal voice called out. The class representative. "I'll have to take your name down otherwise."

"Shut up." He said plaintively, combing fingers through his red hair. "I am not doin' it. Ask someone else."

He sauntered out of the class, stepping into the largely empty corridors. A pair of girls were in sight, attempting to balance holding a huge trash bag between them. The main garbge arena was a long way off, around the bend of the main corridor. He glanced at their pretty, flushed faces as they panted with exertion. Small girls with breakable arms. He paused in his steps, considering.

"Put the bag down." He said, and they froze in their tracks.

"Uhm, we were just-" The girl who spoke to him had a trembling smile. 

"Shut up and leave." He grunted, heaving the black polythene bag over his shoulder. "Do you want me to fuck you up?"

They mumbled something under their breaths, before hastily retreating towards their classes. He adjusted his grip on the plastic, the crackling driving him nuts. After what had mostly been a calm day, it seemed strange to him that he was riled up by an insignificant thing such as this. The sky was coloured red, like someone had spilt warm blood in streaks across a warm yellow canvas, but it reflected his mood. He had to hurry back to the bus station. The afternoon buses would leave in another five minutes, and he had no intention in walking home. 

When he reached the west end, climbing down the stairs leading to the main cluster of third year classes - he could hear laughs - the door of a class around the bend burst open with a crash. He almost missed a step, grasping the railing.

'Fuck.' He grimaced. 'Would've missed a teeth or two.'

"Who the hell-"

Breath catching in his throat, he clammed up, fists tightening involuntarily.

"What a pleasant coincidence."

He stared ahead resolutely, not bothering to open his mouth as he stalked past.

"You are being rude, you know." The husky voice had an undercurrent of amusement, and he bit his tongue, nearly ripping through it. The tang of copper filled his mouth.

"Get the fuck away from me." He felt dangerous, and his blood was already boiling.

"That's nice, but I'd rather have a good reason why I should." 

If devil had an incarnate, he was convinced that He Tian was a solid example of that.

He increased his pace, refusing to acknowledge the evenly spaced footsteps that casually trailed after him.

"Why the hell are you following me, asshole?" He burst out, rearing around. 

"Looks like you have a bone to pick with me." The asshole curved his lips, pitch black eyes calm and clear in a way that he absolutely despised. "I wonder what it is that I've done to make you pissed."

"Don't mock me." The rage was red-hot, addictive and poisonous, for it poisoned his blood as rapidly as arsenic - it made his heart and teeth ache with an unnatural intensity. It wasn't plausible for a human to feel such hatred towards another human, was it? It wasn't justified. But it was, he though, curling his fists. It was in every fathomable manner, justified.

Hurling the garbage bag into the dump, he swivelled around, almost slipping on the pavement. Regaining his balance at the last minute, he collided head on with the aforementioned devil. Before he could come to his senses, however, He Tian retained a vice like grip on his forearm. When did the douche get such strength? He tried to break his hold.

"You aren't escaping from me today." He Tian smiled, grabbing his collar, and it wasn't particularly a pleasant smile. He clutched He Tian's wrists, attempting to pry them off.

"Are you mad?" He was incredulous. "Any one who takes you seriously is full blown retard. You are gonna be fucked any moment now if you don't let me go!"

"I wonder what punishment I should give you today."

He flushed when a girl walked past them, bug-eyed and more than a little apprehensive.

"Fuck!" He was mortified. "Leave me alone."

He Tian perked up.

"Something embarrasses you, interesting. We don't see that everyday, do we?""

"Being with a moron like you obviously does." He muttered, struggling to remove He Tian's grasp from his collar. He had a feeling the asshole wouldn't stop to choke him as a last resort.

"I wasn't aware you though of me like that. You hurt me with your callous words." He Tian smirked, edging closer to him. He had this strange, sinking feeling in his gut. He Tian's breath was warm and humid on his lips, and inexplicably, his face coloured. He breathed out softly, and for a moment, it looked like there were no words that could be exchanged. He Tian's eyes were dark like a never ending chasm.

"What are you looking at?" He Tian murmured. "Should I be disgusted? Or am I just throwing your own words back at you?"

"Maybe you should let go, you ass." His voice was hoarse, and it was strange that he didn't break away from He Tian even as the guy's grip on his collar loosened considerably. He opened his mouth, wanting to trade a couple of insults. Maybe draw back a fist and land a solid blow on that smirking face. He idly wondered how blood would look on He Tian's lips. His face still hadn't lost the heat that steadily radiated from it. 

"Why are you looking at me like that, you bastard?" 

There was a thin line between full blow hunger for blood and simmering hatred. He was casually tip-toeing about that demarcation, unsure of where to proceed. He Tian provided a nasty challenge.

This was a typical day in his life. And as sad as it was, this anger, this hot, addictive rush that flowed through his veins with so much heaviness was the only escape he had from his humdrum life. 

￼


	2. Chapter 2

￼

He exhaled softly, fingers curling around the handle of an iron pan.

"Don't you have tutions today?" His mom poked her head through the doorway, arching a questioning eyebrow. 

"Yeah." He replied, cranking up the heat on the skrillet. The faint odour of onions in the kitchen intensified. His mom leant against the doorframe with crossed arms, silently observing him.

"Something seems to the matter." She remarked. "Spill it, already."

He glowered.

"Nothing is the problem, mom." He stated. "It'll only take a few minutes."

"You miss your dad." He turned to face her, and loathed what he saw. A tired woman with a withered face, eyes that drooped with lethargy and small, determined shoulders that seemed to bear the entire weight to the world.

Unconsciously, somewhere deep within his mind, his quiet fury and simmering emotions all melted away, leaving him introspective. Guilt was an emotion that teetered on the edge of an abyss.

"Old man will be back in a few hours." He said, covering the pan. "He's having shift duty today."

"You probably should be taking up the family business." His mother smiled at him as he brushed past her, entering the hall.

"You cook a lot better than me. Do you recall the number of times you've had to save my ass because I'd over-cooked something or the other? You were such a precocious boy then. Loud too."

Her chuckles brought a slight smirk on his face.

"Someone has to be." He muttered. "One more word and I will be cutting your tongue off, lady."

"And rude too." She reminisced. "Still is, apparently. Where have I gone wrong? Hey, look at the time, you moron! Cram school!"

"Shit." He raced into the living room, picking up his bag from the table.

"Slow down-"

"See you later." He said, kicking open the door and rushing out into the yard. Clambering atop his bicycle, he looked back reflexively to see his mother waving after him.

"Tell dad his meal is on the counter." He yelled.

"Sure." She said aloud. "The household rules are completely inverted in this house. Don't let your friends know."

Friends? He huffed, pushing his feet onto the pedal. What friends? A bunch of brain dead morons who followed him about out of desperation was the apt selection of words. The climate wasn't merciful, and he was fully drenched with sweat by the time he reached the compound, which was swarming with students. Rolling his bike out over the gritty mud, he looked over at the sea of kids.

It was a mess of juniors and seniors, and everyone looked haggard as they clutched their colour coded notes and whatnot, mouthing words as they revised like maniacs. In his opinion, cram school was a pain in the ass. The sole reason he was attending was because the lectures in his highschool sucked, and if he had any chance of passing and not facing his mom's wrath, it would be this. His slung his bag over his shoulder, making way towards the entrance. Someone crashed into his back, and he swivelled around on his heels.

"Watch where you are walking." He said sharply, looking down at a small guy.

"Don't block my way, then.". The kid said irritably, and it was like his brain was instinctively wired to respond with aggression. In a mere span of seconds, his hand curled around the guy's shirt collar, lifting him up.

"Listen kid." He said evenly. "You should be more responsible. Watch. Your. Step."

"S-sure."

Breathing in slowly, he walked up the stairs, towards the windows that overlooked the park behind the school. A dark, shadowy figure outlined the glass, shrouded by the darkness. It was late afternoon. He paid them no need as he continued walking up the stairs.

"You are impulsive out of school as well, how predictable."

He whirled around, nearly snapping his neck with horror. He stared as the figure came out into the light, a trail of smoke following him. He Tian crushed the head of the cigar onto the wall, dropping it in a nearby bin. The asshole had a pleasant, plaintive expression on his face, and that might have fooled him into being calm if it weren't for those languid, black eyes. 

"This shit creeps me out." He muttered to himself, brain going flat. "Don't talk to me, you bastard. I ain't putting up with your shit today."

He Tian raised his hands, looking as innocent as a wolf who's been gnawing on a sheep's bones.

"I wasn't about to do anything else."

There was no way He Tian was going to make his day shittier than it was before. He clambered up the stairs, walking through the crowded corridor. Glancing back over his shoulder, a dead weight formed in his stomach when he realized that the guy wasn't following him. He Tian might be a sadistic masochist, but even that bastard wasn't idiotic enough to follow him about. Even if it was to torture him.

Pissed off and more than a little confused, he realized that the corridor was becoming more and more less populated.

'Fuck these similar looking classes. I'll have to go downstairs again.'

Mind preoccupied, he didn't hear the steps behind him untill he saw the shadow in front of him. Gritting his teeth, he swivelled around, ready to give whatever unfortunate asshole behind him a piece of his mind.

"I am fucking tired of brains dead morons collid-"

The air went out of his gut, as though someone had landed a solid blow on it. He Tian stood in front of him, tilting his head. 

"What do you want?" His voice was quiet. "Why the fuck are you following me like a goddamn housefly?"

"We happen to have the same class." The bastard had the audacity to sling an arm over his shoulder as though they were best buds. "Why don't you show me the way? It's my first day, after all."

He felt a warm breath on his ear, and it burned like a furnace. There was a single, blessed moment where his mind lost track of events and attempted to pull away, but the arm around his back held him in a tight lock. Hate fuelled him, bringing him to life. The hand pressing against his back seemed to be branding his skin.

"That's fucking gross." He wheezed. "What do yo-"

"I like messing with you." He Tian admitted, running fingers through his hair and mussing it up. He gave up attempting to pry the bastard's hand off.

"Can't you find some other target?" He demanded, oddly calming down. "I can't put up with this."

"Well then, you'll have to suck it up, and-" He Tian met his eyes. "Swallow."

He couldn't tear his eyes off the way the bastard's throat bobbed as he spoke.

"What did you say?" He asked, distracted. Rewinding back on the bastard's words, his features contorted in disgust.

"I like messing with innocent guys like you." He Tian continued. "I don't feel sorry."

"You want me to console you or something?" He was incredulous beyond words.

He Tian curved his lips mysteriously, leaning in. 

"I was hoping for that." He whispered. His voice was rough. "You see, I like being consoled."

He couldn't stop staring at the bastard's face, he realized with unlimited horror. It was witchcraft. Sorcery!

"In what ways? You are so fucking idiotic. It's sad."

Apparently his brain was short circuiting.

"Several." He Tian pointed out nonchalantly, and small hairs rose over the nape of his neck, and he opened his mouth to remark. Silence impermeated the air, and there was a brief, convoluted moment where they both considered each other. Predator and prey. Perhaps, there was no such distinction. He could easily land a few punches if all hell broke loose, although it gnawed at him to admit that he could just as easily have his head smashed by this douchebag. He wasn't a moron. Even he knew his limits. Although, it was funny how there was no malevolence on the bastard's face. He might have been hallucinating, but the bastard's eyes were darkening by the moment. Inexplicably, his mouth went dry for a crazy heartbeat when those dark eyes flickered down on his lips, before going back up. A strange buzz filled his head, and it was driving him nuts.

"Gotta go." He tuned his head away. "Get away from me."

There was a second where He Tian said nothing, moving away from him.

"You get angered easily." The bastard turned to face the windows. "I hate your kind the most."

"Who are you to judge, huh, asshole?" He was feeling irritable. Bitterness took over him like a wave.

"You have it easy." He continued. "Cool house. Rich parents and all that shit. Probably don't even know how it is like to balance shifts and your shitty school life. I guess you think you are such a hotshot."

He Tian didn't say anything.

"You don't realize stuff. Stuff like earning for the next meal, and working your way to the top. Pathetic losers like you are a waste to the world." He continued. The bastard spared him a neutral glance.

"How can you say that?" He Tian scoffed, not tearing his eyes from the landscape below. "You the kind the person who makes assumptions without even knowing anything. The way you say that I am rich makes me laugh."

"You are jus' bluffing now." He said, irritated. "You are the lowest of the low, you asshole."

"I get your point." He Tian smiled. A warning shock raced down his spine. What did the bastard want?

"The-" He cleared his throat, and it seemed like his eyes had a mind of their own, not being able to meet the bastard's calculating eyes. "There is no way I'll tolerate your shit. Come on to me again and I'll break every bone in your body."

He Tian sauntered towards him languidly, like a lithe cat stretching itself out. He took a step backwards, his back hitting the wall. The bastard braced an arm on the wall, and he felt like he was in a deep abyss. Brain freezing instantaneously, he found himself unable to say anything.

"That's quite the bold statement to make, isn't it?" The bastard edged closer, untill he was plastered onto the wall. The cold mosaic pressed against his back, and he could feel unwordly tingles on his skin.

"I can say whatever I want. Who the fuck are you?"

"Someone who oddly affects you." He Tian put his palm on his chest, and his heart sped up. "I can feel it. Need I say more?"

The sky was darkening, purple and violet mixed with hues of red. The corridor was partially ensconced in darkness, the two of them abandoned. He Tian's face was fading away as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Classes were probably ongoing. Why was he stuck to the wall?

"I-" He turned his face away when he felt He Tian's hand on his hip. Swallowing, he stared resolutely into the darkness. "I don't know what the hell your intentions are, you bastard. The only reason why I am keeping myself in check is because my ma would kick me to hell if I stain my clothes with blood."

"You are confident." He Tian commented, and he felt the bastard's nose brush against his cheek in one electrifying moment. "How unnatural. I could kill you here if I wanted. Break your neck, for example. A clean thing. No one would question me. No evidence."

"You wish." He snorted, even as he felt He Tian's chest pressing against his. "You are crushing me against the wall, asshole-"

"Hey, who's there! Come out! I can hear voices!" A sharp voice sounded from around the bend, and he froze against He Tian's chest.

"What the fuck have you done, you bastard?" He groaned, even as He Tian laughed quietly.

"You ready?" The bastard asked, and it was unnerving that he couldn't see the expression on He Tian's face in the lack of light. "What-"

He Tian grabbed his arm, before he was suddenly jerked forward.

"Hurry up!"

"Hey, you two there, stop!"

Elated, and more than a little breathless, he let himself be dragged away blindly.

"Fuck off!" He shouted at the teacher following them, and He Tian's wicked laugh followed as they both raced towards their class. 

￼


	3. Chapter 3

They were in a broom closet. He had no idea how they had got there. Oh, yeah, they were currently on a run. A poor excuse for one, considering that they had got locked up in a broom closet that the asshole He Tian had hauled him into. Things were starting to heat up, and a muscle in his jaw twitched as he thought about how peaceful and relatively less troublesome his day had been, at least it was until the asshole had chosen to destroy it with his obnoxiousness.

Blood roared in his ears as He Tian looked at him, a hint of uncertainty clouding his face. It vanished the next second.

"Why don't you leave me alone, you asshole?" His words were weak, and the bastard knew it as well. It wasn't even a question.

"I would if I could." The bastard had the gall to look innocent and troubled as he leaned in. "But I can't, you see? I get attracted to trouble."

"Find other ways to waste your time, dumb ass." He was irritable, and the broom closet wasn't an ideal place for his lanky limbs. He tried to maintain a safe distance from the asshole. There was no telling what might happen. 

"This is crazy." A part of him wavered when his eyes flickered down to He Tian's lips. The bastard's tongue peeked out, a bold, red flicker, before disappearing inside. He inwardly groaned as the bastard raised an audacious eyebrow, as if he were really surprised.

"Don't fucking ask me!" He yelled, face flaming. "I d-"

"I get that you are extremely aroused." He Tian remarked, pressing a warm palm against his mouth. Scrabbling to remove the bastard's hand from his mouth, he tried his best to ignore the heady smell of musk as strands of his red hair limply hung over his temple, clinging to skin damp with exertion. The bastard smelled like home. He didn't know what was worse. "Try to control yourself."

He choked. That was the last thing he could ever hope to bear.

The bastard's torso was pressed against his sweat-slicked back, and he could feel heat radiating from him. A chin was on his shoulder, a hand on his mouth and another one on his waist. He stamped his heel onto the bastard's foot, and He Tian laughed quietly, moving away like an inconspicuous snake. The sudden loss of physical heat made him feel strange, and when there was another rap on the door, he glowered at the bastard.  
One day, he'd punch the daylights out of the insufferable bastard. He Tian merely gave him a devious grin.

He was about to give the asshole a piece of his mind, when he thought he heard something.

There was a sudden rattle outside the door, which brought him out of his mental parade, and for a moment, he gave up his struggle in an effort to remain still. If they were caught, they'd both be fucked. He wasn't afraid of authority as such, but of the belligerent assholes who'd ruin his image. Gossip was one thing that all kids leeched onto like bloodsuckers. Not that he cared about his image. He could give a fuck about that. But the idea that he was found in a fucking small closet with the bastard was as unappealing as a week-old plate of chow mein. It seemed that the bastard had considered that as well, for he didn't make a sound. 

For a while, there was only the sound of his harsh, trembling breathing. It was in those moments that he became hyper aware of several things. Small details. The way the bastard was gazing at him openly, completely unruffled and of how the bastard had an earthy, fresh smell that reminded him of ground cinnamon, and how he could smell the fruity gum he had been chewing on earlier. Watermelon. He liked that. Somehow, that made the situation all the more weird. The bastard regarded him openly, with casual eyes that didn't seem to imply anything violent. He would be lying if he said that that wasn't terrifying. 

They remained like that for a while, him pressed against the cabinet and He Tian leaning against the door. A few more centimeters in, and the bastard would smirking against his lips. Face flaming, he fixed his gaze on the floor. This was all a bad nightmare, he repeated to himself. Some bad karma that some idiot had wished upon him. He nearly jumped when the bastard's hands gripped his shoulders from the back.

"Wha-" He began hotly, but warm lips closed around his ear, silencing him momentarily. At this point, he was past the line of caring. There was such a thing called personal space, and the bastard needed to recognize that-

His brain froze as He Tian's arms banded around his waist, swinging him around to face the door. The door knob rattled mercilessly, as though someone were trying to force it open. He didn't think about the potentially disastrous repercussions if the door was opened. All he could think about were the warm hands around his stomach, and He Tian's damp hair tickling his jaw. Intoxication conquered him in one drowning wave.

When the door creaked with an ancient yawn, signalling that the person on the other side had managed to pry it open by a fraction, he came back to his senses, tensing. He was prepared to kick the unfortunate soul into oblivion.

"The bolt is rusted, sir!" 

"Get it open, then. We aren't paying you janitors free money, you hear me?" A sharp voice, which he recognized as belonging to the Dean of the place. He swallowed. They were officially fucked.

"Yeah, yeah. I am opening it now." The janitor's nasal voice cut through his rapidly panicking mind.

He turned his head, his lips dragging over the bastard's ear. His heart was hammering relentlessly. The bastard merely smirked in the faint light coming from the window. There was a noisy creak behind him.

"What are you doing?" He whispered lowly, the gaggle of voices arguing outside nearly drowning out his voice.

"Making our life easier." Was the only thing the bastard said, before he was dragged into a cold, congested space. He Tian's elbow dug into his stomach, and he swore softly. There was another sound, before the cabinet door was swung shut, cutting off the voices almost instantaneously. His legs brushed against some cans, and his hands were dusty.

"We wait." The voices seemed so far away now.

There was a loud, tremendous creak as the rickety door was busted open, and through the small crack between the twin doors of the cabinet, torch light streamed in. He held his breath, He Tian's arm a warm length pressed against his own.

"Nothing in here." The Dean sounded puzzled. "I could've sworn that some infernal kids were making a ruckus in there-"

"I have to go clean the staff-room." The janitor interjected, sounding cross. 

"Yes." He could hear the Dean coughing apologetically as the door was swung shut, and the torch light went out, shrouding both him and the bastard in the darkness. He couldn't make out the rest of the voices, but it was evident that they wouldn't be spotted any time soon. He let out an involuntary curse.

"Damn." He mopped his brow. "That was legend."

"I know." The bastard sounded smug, and oddly mischievous. Exhilaration filled his chest.

"Are you fucking kidding' me?" He asked incredulously. "That was some quick thinking, for a moron."

He couldn't read the bastard's expression in the pitch black darkness, but there was a low, contented hum. For once, rage didn't consume him like a volatile miasma. He awkwardly brushed back his sweat-matted hair, wanting to break the silence with a punch line.

"We have to get out." He said roughly. "Can't risk-"

One moment, he was languidly leaning against the door. In the next, hands grappled his hips and twisted him around by pure force, crushing him against the back wall of the cabinet. He was pushed up against the wall with a stunning urgency, and his knees buckled. He Tian didn't say anything, and while it was fucking unfair that he could read any of the bastard's expression, he could only imagine the silken feel of the bastard's mouth around his ear. Dexterous, nimble fingers curled around his neck, and his instinctual need was to lean in. 

Pissed off, he did, and there was a still, shocking pause that screamed for him to stop. It was now or never, and it echoed in his head. Now or never. The bastard's scent was overwhelming, and there were so many confusing little factors.

His thoughts were scrambling even as warm lips parted over his own, pressing against his like dewdrops. Synapses on fire, every nerve ending on his body seemed to be hyperalert. The bastard reared back, and he couldn't help but follow like a blind idiot.

"You want more? Haha." The bastard's voice had cracked. Fucking moron. Even his laugh was unsteady. Who was he fooling, putting up a delusional front like that?

"F-fuck." Was the only thing he said in reply, and the bastard's lips closed around his yet again, and all trail of thought dissolved into nothingness. 

Apparently, his brain had been fucked thoroughly. 

This time, it was rough, insistent, and he shut his eyes tightly. A warm, hot flush raced up his skin with dizzying intensity, as the bastard kissed him again. And again. He didn't stop, even when the bell rang. Both of them had lost all sense of time. When the bastard forced a probing, hot tongue in, his elbow jerked back reflexively, and in the red haze of his mind, he heard the metal can rolling about noisily on the cabinet platform, having been knocked over.

"We n-need to-" He held the bastard at bay with his hands, pressing his palms against a solid chest, panting. "-need to go. Fucking' stop."

"Second thoughts?" The tone of He Tian's voice was unruffled. Casual. It drove him crazy.

"Find someone else to experiment on, fuck." He snapped, kicking the cabinet door open. The broom closet wasn't locked anymore, having been opened on the instruction of the Dean. What the fuck was he doing with the bastard? With a pained expression, he looked over his shoulder, to meet the bastard's eyes. He Tian was looking straight at him with a smug, self-satisfied expression that reminded him of a sly Cheshire cat.

"What?" He barked out, face scalding rapidly.

"Nothing." The bastard shrugged, hands in his his pockets as he brushed past him, walking out of the closet. "See you around, red."

With that, the bastard left, without as much as sparing him a second glance. His knees buckled, and he slumped down against a wall. What the fuck had just happened?

￼

\----


	4. Chapter 4

He didn't bother looking up as a shadow of a head obscured the ground below his gaze. He was currently on the school roof, procrastinating. Contemplation had hit him hard. A chocolate stick swayed from side to side in his mouth, and he closed his eyes, gnawing on the sweetness.

He heard a dull thud as He Tian leapt over the railings, landing neatly before him. It was like he’d set claim to a territory of something, and that made him fume.

"What are you doing here?" When he opened his eyes, the bastard had an arched eyebrow that pissed him off. Even his hips had an arrogant sway to them. He switched his gaze to the whitewashed concrete of the wall behind the insufferable moron, expression grim.

"Believe it or not," He said finally. "I am willing to let you go without being fucked over this time."

"Oh, so now your mood's pretty good?" He Tian had an infuriating smirk that he wished to wipe off with his blunt knuckles. “How disappointing. I expected more from you.”

"Fuck off. You are nothing but a creep."

"Ouch. You need to take a lesson in courtesy." The way the bastard chastised him made him curl his fingers. Why couldn't he ever experience peace and quiet? It seemed like everywhere he turned, he could only meet up with confrontational morons like the one standing before him. His fever wasn't helping one bit. Rummaging in his pockets for aspirin, he inwardly groaned when he found none. To top his pathetic day, a good portion of his pocky broke off when the bastard landed beside him on his ass, knocking him over with a heavy hand on his back in the process. He choked, tears of pain springing to his eyes.

"You look a little rusty."

"Do you want to be fucked twice?"

"You know, red, you remind me of those annoying T.V ads. Never deliver up on your promises. I’ll consider the offer, if it’s the other way around."

Great. The last thing he had to find out was that the guy was a shitty masochist. He rubbed his temple, a wave of dizziness conquering him for a moment.  
"Listen." He told him tiredly. "If you want to pick a fight-"

"Haha, what's with your negativity this morning?" There was a quiet sort of shuffle, and he buried his fever flushed face between his knees, the cool fabric a balm for heated skin. He didn't wish to return back to the classes after bell. There was a breif moment where he thought he could simply jump off the roof and play cards in heaven like his grandma.

"You look like you are beating yourself up hard." He Tian told him.

"Do I look like I need to be told that?" He asked.

"No. Just my honest input, red. One day, that mouth on you is going to get you in trouble." He Tian murmured, turning his face to his. He met those eyes steadily, catching the amused light creeping into them.

"My mouth is perfectly fine, asshole." He bit out. 

"I have no doubt about it." The words sounded strange, screaming raw honesty, all the more highlighting the absurdity of the situation. He broke the eye contact, frowning when the bastard laughed.

"You have the nerve to laugh at me-"

"That was an innuendo, young grasshopper." He Tian interjected.

"Get out of here, shithead."

"You really need to increase your vocab, red."

"Fuck off."

"That's a no, then, haha. Don't look so offended. Better watch your pretty mouth."

"You are blocking the way." He said curtly. “Thanks for gifting me your fucking presence, douchebag. Now move it.”

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, you know." He Tian removed his head, revealing the sky in his line of sight, and he didn't bother to face him as the bastard sat down beside him.

"What do you want?" Lethargic, and feeling weak, he asked. He was sick. Had been for an entire week.

"I happened to miss your obedient, polite version." He could hear the foxy grin in the bastard's voice. "How can I bring you back?"

"That me never fucking existed. Now get lost or I'll teach you a lesson." The words that were chewed out lacked venom, and the worst part was knowing it through the faint, feverish heat of his mind. He soldiered on, even as his throat got clogged, and his eyes drooped. It had been a trying week, attempting to manage two part time jobs at once. His old lady had attempted to make him slow down, but he couldn't do that. He'd to pay off the pending mortgage on their house, and the bail money for his dad-

When he turned his head to view the bastard, he was looking right at him. It was a mechanical reaction, the way all thought in his head ceased to be when he saw that perfectly poised smirk on those wind-chapped lips, and the soft strands of inky black hair that was being tossed about like the wind. But the one thing that stood out the most were those onyx eyes that regarded him with a silent intensity. Pitch black, swallowing everything in its vicinity. Even his focus. He broke the gaze, averting his eyes. 

"You don't seem to be in your usual spirits today." He Tian commented.

"It gets worse when you are around, bastard."

"I am touched." As much as he loathed admitting it, some of the heaviness lodged in his chest receded.

He got up, feeling a lot like his early afternoon rendezvous with the school roof had been cut short, and a damn sight unfairly at that. He had just made it down the stairs when a hand clasped his shoulder, making him curse. He spun around, dumping the contents of the bottle his hand on the offender impulsively.

"The heck?"

He saw a very much drenched asshole who looked stunned. Laughing voraciously, he bowled over. The asshole's eyes impulsively darkened.

"Let's both wait for my shirt to dry, shall we?"

His face paled. 

"Fuck no."

-

He was dragged off behind the stairs. Wonderful. Should have known karma was a bitch.

￼


	5. Chapter 5

He Tian didn't say anything. Sometimes he wondered whether the bastard had lost all sense of reality, floating in a state of limbo that no one else cared to know about. His cargo pants were barely riding below his hips, and the sharp angles of his hips were jutting out. There was a whisper of fabric over fabric, before the rest of the cotton shirt was tugged up, drenched with water. He curled his fingers, turning his face away. It was almost impossible to navigate in the pitch black darkness, but he didn't care. He could feel that piercing gaze boring into the back of his head, ripping through his synapses and firing every damn sense of his body. His throat felt constricted, and he felt increasingly dizzy.

"Don't want to leave just yet?" The douche's question was dry; it almost seemed like his only last time was to torture the living juice out of him. He made a profane gesture with his hand, before jamming it into his pocket. 

"I don't want to go back to class, shithead."

"You aren't leaving." He heard a slight shuffle, and the imperceptible smell of musk, and realized with a growing sensation of disorientation that the bastard was approaching him from the back. He swallowed lowly, rivulets of sweat trickling down the veins of his neck as he pressed his heated forehead against the cool wall. He could feel the whisper of a breath on his nape, and restrained the urge to smash his spine into the bastard's gut, to flit away like a flummoxed, helpless fly. 

"I can't." He gritted out. "You are fuckin' keeping me here."

"I get it." He could feel the hard planes of He Tian's chest as it pressed up against his sweat drenched cloth, and his eyes opened with a sudden jolt. It felt like someone had forcibly ripped into him with a rusted dagger when casual, callous hands floated over his abdomen, which was somersaulting a mile a minute. He caught the strong wrist, merely seconds away from twisting it and tearing through the skin, and splicing the hard bone. He desired, almost thirsted for the bastard's expression when he realized that the tables had been turned.

"Ouch." There was a curse whispered near his ear, a wet mouth barely tracing the shell of his flamed ears. "That hurts, haha."


	6. Chapter 6

"You are a moron." He commented, twisting his grip on that wrist even more. The bastard didn't even give him a moment to breathe, swinging him around and pushing him against the walls. For a moment, it felt like his body had lost track of gravity.

"That was a mistake." This was probably the first time in days since he had confronted the bastard. It had seemed not too long ago since those feline eyes had him pinned like an unwilling participant onto a dartboard. Thirst claimed him like a wave. That face was now mere inches away from his. The silence that tersely stretched out between them held so many fucking unanswered questions. Mood utterly ruined, he kneed the bastard between his legs, hearing a satiating crunch as the asshole went careening several stunned steps backwards, like a betrayed idiot. Panting, he refused with all his might to acknowledge his weakly fluttering heart. He had no sense of self-preservation, apparently.

"You a surprising little shit, aren't you?" He Tian said, expression wicked and his voice a bit out of breath when he stood up.

"Get the fuck out of my way." Ignoring the bastard, he attempted to move towards the door of the stairwell. Before he could open it, powerful, lean limbs banded around his waist, and he choked for air as one of those hands twined around his neck, cutting off his breath.

"You fascinate me." He Tian admitted. So this was retaliation.

"Fuck!" He took shallow breaths when the bastard dropped him, and his throat felt as though it had been permanently branded with hot iron. The retaliation was too pathetic. What was the bastard's game? He refused to accept this-this hoity toity bullshit.

When a dry thumb ran over his chapped lips, he could only stare into the bastard's face.

"Just what do you want from me, asshole?" His voice was hoarse when the bastard's gaze flickered to his lips, as abruptly as lightening.

"How about a decent fuck? I need to blow off some steam."

"Go and torture someone else!"

"Why, isn't my proposition good enough?" 

The douchebag. The absolute fucking douche! Why was his fucking body betraying him? As if the bastard didn't have a harem of girls hanging around him like insane flies and eating out of his hand. His resolve strengthened into something powerful. Eyes narrowing, he looked at the asshole, who considered him intensely. 

A crazy, manic part of him sprang into action. If you asked him about the trigger, he couldn't answer. He'd be unable to answer with his current state. He head-butted the bastard, shoving him backwards. Mind hysterical beyond measure, he thought of how cabinets and dark places and walls and hard counters seemed to inspire his insanity, before saying one resonating 'fuck it all' and diving in for the kill. His mouth closed over like a dying fish over He Tian's parted, soft mouth, and he cringed. His nose bumped against the asshole's cheek, and there was a quiet, surprised laugh, albeit muffled by his lips.

"You suck at this."

There was a brief, tangible moment when he separated from the bastard, simply staring at him incredulously. He got an arched eyebrow in return.

"Irony, darling."

He smashed his lips against the bastard's, half in a bid to shut the idiot up, and also to revaluate his mental choices. The revaluation soon turned into a wild, malicious whirl of lust and anger, a powerful combination that clouded his mind as hands fisted his hips, a warm tongue sneaking into his mouth languidly. The bastard grinned against his lips, and in a frenzied state of mind, he was desperate to learn what was hilarious about the situation.

Considering that he was rutting like a starved...creature who was his supposed enemy, everything.

There was nothing more to be said, and all rational thoughts ebbed away in one enormous wreck as a lean, slender thigh was forced between his. A curse melted away into a moan that was soon muffled by lips. It almost took him by surprise, but before he could contemplate more about it, the bastard's bit on his bottom lip hard, eliciting a curse from him.

In a half drunk haze of sense and irrationality, he shoved the bastard away. Silence was a constant companion for a few seconds, where they assessed each other with wary eyes, their pants hard and fast as though they had ran a marathon. He brushed back his red hair, unable to meet the bastard's eyes. He Tian took a tentative step forward, and his shoulders tensed. He turned around and ran, ran like there was a pack of hounds chasing after him, and didn't look back. 

The kisses had been wet, and the damn thought looped about in his mind, continuously playing like like a funeral lyre on repeat, and it was like an ominous prelude to even worse things. He dragged the hem of his shirt against his bruised lips, attempting to wipe it clean until they were sore and raw, and pained and used. Sweat dribbled down his jaw, and his eyebrows were pinched; tensed. He had to get away, and think. His mind was a chaotic, disorganized mess.

A couple of chicks rolled past him, giggling like they had hit an all time high, their soft bodies a balm for his aching mind. He glanced at their soft, appealing curves, and the shorts outlining their pale, milk white thighs, before gritting his teeth with a malice that made it ache. What was wrong with him? He latched onto the remnants of his sanity, even as they chipped away bit by bit.

This couldn't go any further. He wasn't a moron. The bastard was messing around with him, and it probably didn't mean much to the asshole. But his reactions-

He shuddered, recalling the way damp hair had tickled his chin, and rough, calloused hands the same as his, only bolder, had crept across his abdomen. He resolutely strode ahead, hands clenching into fists. There was no way there would be a repeat of this incident the next time they met. When that happened, he would be sure to return the favor. He scowled as anticipation built like a devil's chasm within him, snatching all conscious thought. He refused to acknowledge any blasphemous attraction.

He Tian moaned like a cat. He'd later toss and turn about in the weekend, jerking off to that memory alone. Fucking great.

￼


	7. Chapter 7

The birds were fucking loud. He scratched his chin roughly, tossing his covers away with a soundless groan. Who needed an alarm when he could rely on the nutty critters to do their job?

"Aren't you still out of bed yet?" His mom's voice floated like an unwelcome siren, floating through the curtains. His red hair was tangled and missed up like a hornet's nest, and he vainly tried to part through a few entwined strands, to no avail. Just what had he been doing the night before? Rubbing his palms over his sore calves, he tried to ignore the stuffiness of the bed and think. Sleep had danced away from him as abruptly as his tolerance for mornings.

When the memory rush hit headfirst, he felt like crawling back into the softest corner of his bed and making himself a tent from which he would never bother to retreat. The day before might as well hadn't existed in his book. He buried his burning face into the covers, thoughts spiralling deeper and deeper as they turned into a clusterfuck of emotions.

He had passed out after he had jerked off to the bastard. 

"Get out of that bed, kid!" His mom's voice was significantly more louder now, and if he didn't know any better, it was almost like the lady wanted him to split his head into two.

"Yeah, pipe down, old hag." He called out weakly, before burying his face into his hands. Nothing could make his forthcoming days any better than it was now. Why was he agonzing over a ridiculous cat and mouse game invented by that sly bastard He Tian? He couldn't deny that he found satisfaction in the thought that he had managed to headbutt the bastard. There was also the way he had jammed his knee near the moron's crotch, but that was a disappointing miss that he'd rather not pause to consider.

"Get up already! It is such a beautiful day and you should be ashamed to miss even a fraction of it-"

"Beautiful day my ass, ma. It's a Monday, for fuck's sake."

"That's it, you slacker! Off to the yard with you. Go clean up that potty mouth while you are it. Honestly, other kids are up all night studying and voluntarily hurrying off to cram school while my lazy ass son has nothing better to do than jerking off-"

"Ma!"

His mother stropped at his scandalised tone, before laughing.

"I am saying the truth, after all. Only my son is horny 24/7."

Grumbling, he clambered off of his bed, scratching his belly. Sometimes, his mother had no filter to segregate between her practical and ridiculous statements. Perhaps being with his delinquent dad had made her this way. It was a subduing thought, but when was his old man ever a harbinger of happiness to the family? 

When he was off drinking booze till he was sick and wrung dry, he thought dryly. Every day seemed to be in shambles. He scratched his bony hips, wriggling his toes absently in an effort to regain blood to his extremities. 

The radio blared like an offended siren through the doors of the kitchen, and he winced as the shrill sound made his teeth ache at its awful intensity. And the worst part was having rice paper thin walls as a meagre cover from the old fashioned music. Maybe the first thing he'd do after receiving a decent job was to find his old parent a neat shack to hole up in. 

                              ______________________________

The classrooms were untidy, but it wasn't like the school authorities had ran out of fucks to give when the district officer had run by with an order to neaten up the place. Because of the notable absence of staff, the senior kids were stuck with the humdrum task of renovation as the local warden watched on with an evil eye. The bucket of paint in his hand was a welcoming weight, even as he watched on in disdain as the class representative did a poor job of the wall, dripping blue paint all over the already ruined concrete tiles.

"Watch where you are swinging that brush, dipshit." His advice wasn't taken to heart; the ladder on which the bespectacled representative sat on gave a sudden heart-stopping lurch, before it decided to come down on the people below. 

When heartfelt screeches pierced his ears through the gateway of Buddha himself, he grabbed a fistful of his red hair and decided that he'd had enough of incompetent fools. In the heat of his irritation, an unfortunate girl brushed past him, knocking her bare knees against his. He whipped around, a scornful glare ready on his face. 

"Hey, hey. There's no need to be rude."

The girl's mouth opened at the interruption, and he could see the way how her cheeks pinkened this close. Despair uncoiled in the pit of his stomach, mixed with agitation, and a feeling he would die a thousand deaths before he would admit - anticipation.

"H-He Tian classmate."

"Hello there, beautiful." He Tian pressed his chest against his back, peering over his shoulder. He closed his eyes, gnashing his teeth together. The day hadn't even begun when the asshole had diligently decided to ruin it.

"Take your loving fan and fuck off. Fuckin' lovebirds goin' at it in the morning." He sneered, and the girl flushed in embarrassment and humiliation. It calmed him down, oddly. There were a definite set of rules. He was the bad guy, and people spoke ill of him and tended to avoid him as they did. It was wholly natural. There was no reason why he had to change that. He bared his teeth at the girl, and her shoulders quavered in timid fright. 

He wasn't a pack animal - unsociable in many ways, he considered himself a loner. There was no reason why he was supposed to get along with others, smiling fake smiles and hiding his pain all day long. 

"What did she ever do to you, huh?" He Tian enquired, smiling surreptitiously, before wrapping his fingers like a tight adhesive around the skin of his wrist. A jolt of something like electricity raced up his blood stream, and he snatched his hand back, glowering over his shoulders. He Tian gave him an indiscernible look, but the expression in his dark gaze sent a shock of sheer want down his spine. In a second, whatever it was in those eyes ceased to be.

Memories from the day before rushed to the forefront of his mind, and he resisted the urge to pummel the moron standing behind him untill he was senseless. Nothing could be more satiating than hearing the crack of bones, he told himself. The girl shielded her eyes from He Tian, whispering her apologies and making her way past them in haste succession. Gravity was clearly working against him, but he forced himself to put his head down and walk away. Away from this cursed attraction.

The classroom they were in was filled, a major proportion of students working to fix the unpeeling sections of the drab ceiling, some working on the paint rollers on the concrete floor. The others were pushing the desks and benches out of the way. One could easily lose themselves in this sea of students, if they wanted to. And he did, he did want to get away from the bastard and his face. Such unnatural loathing was probably unhealthy for his psyche. 

￼


	8. Chapter 8

The day had started off pretty good. But, things had begun to go wrong somewhere out of the bend. He had been hanging out with a couple of his bunch near the netted fence separating the park from the school - they'd be fucked by the teachers if they were caught, but they had been doing this for too long to ditch this place. He wasn't feeling particularly chatty today, not with his mood. After the painting was done for the afternoon, they were supposed to pack up and go home. That was where things had taken a turn for the worse. He didn't know whether it was plain bad luck or anything otherwise.

"Are you still thinking about that idiot, Lay Yin?" Fang asked him with narrowed eyes. "We'd be beating the fucker up tomorrow - what's with the big face?"

"Shut up." He bit out. "The asshole is planning something for sure."

Rival gangs were not uncommon. But when they confronted each other, which was not rare either, things blew up. It tended to create and ugly scene, one he was not interested in dealing with.

"Don't go out alone. Stay in groups." He said, looking at the bunch. They gazed back at him warily, observant of him as hawks, before nodding their agreement.

"We'll beat that shit Lay Yin real good the next time he comes to mess with us." Nianzu laughed boisterously, letting out a belligerent burp. A couple of empty soda cans were left unattended on the grass beside him.

"Pick them up, you idiot." Fang groaned. "We don't want evidence here; not where those old fags can catch us."

"I will, I will..."

The rest of the conversation fades to a neutral echo in the back of his head as he thought about Lay Yin. A kid from another highschool with an ego the size of an elephant's balls were what had been his initial impression of him. He felt pissed off just thinking about it. He had no intentions of sparking any conflict between their gangs, and yet the toad-sized nitwit had challenged him. He didn't have time for any of these pitiful games.

"Stay together." He repeated, guzzling down another bottle of soda. "Don' let that fucker beat you up."

They dispersed.

-

The humidity of the air had seemed to lower the spirits of those who were present in their neighborhood. The sickly appearance of the group of girls clustered around the basketball net on the cobbled field, or the elderly woman who was mopping her pinched brow by the vegetable stand every now and then was proof of how the temperature was wildly fluctuating in Hangzhou, not even giving consideration to the health of its inhabitants. It happened every now and then.

He lowered his eyes, shouldering the strap of his bag carefully as he sauntered through the dusty pavements of finder street, sidestepping ditches and newly dug potholes meant for the installation of water pipes and circlets - a precaution against the sudden flux in temperature. One or two of his former neighbours had already lost themselves to the heat stroke.

An occasional cycle rolled past under the birch trees outlining the road and the blinded shops, but that was the only disturbance in the street, which was as silent as a grave. He preferred days like this, when everyone had escaped to the suburb or the city to escape the harsh weather by partying over there. It was all good for him - he didn't get bitter over the thought, for it was in these kind of days that the customers at his workplace rarely visited. The heartening thought that he didn't have to extend his shift lifted his spirits a little, and he closed his eyes, a faint, hot breeze tossing the dusty stands of his red hair. 

He didn't get to experience peace and quiet much, but when he did, he almost always introspected. Maybe that was troublesome, he reflected. Especially in cases where he thought of all that troubled him, which brought a familiar, confident set of eyes to his mind. It was a physical trigger for him - his breaths accelerated imperceptibly, and there was a sudden clench of his teeth ; that was all there was, really. Just a physical reaction to his sworn enemy - it was perhaps dramatic, even silly, but he was a teenager, and teenagers were allowed to do that, weren't they?

Stuff like obsessing over pointless bastards, who reminded him of cows in a ranch who never really backed down unless they were given a proper tending to. 

The image of that bastard He Tian being compared to a whiny cow made him snort. It sure fit him. Hell had a special place for bastards like him, he was sure. He took a right turn around the grocer's, counting the blocks he crossed mentally untill he reached the front gate of his dilapidated house. In hindsight, the eerie silence was an indicator that things were wrong. Opening the door with his spare key, he stepped into the house. There was absolute silence. Maybe his mother had left for work early-

No, but the kitchen curtains were billowing in the wind. His mother never left the windows open. He could smell something burning-

Anxiety poisoned his mind, forcing him to think irrationally. The gas stove was on, and there was a piece of dehydrated, charred bread on the frying pan. He switched it off, not even bothering to fling his bag down before rushing into the bedroom. His heart gave a sudden lurch, and he froze.

There on the ground by the bedside table his mom lay, with glassy eyes looking straight at him. Her mouth was frothing in a tell-tale manner, and his heart skipped a beat.

He dialed for help.

-

"I am sorry sir, but we need a first rate surgeon. Her chest is already in a critcal condition as the X-Rays clearly suggest. To drain the fluid out and cleanse all the remaining embolisms we need someone experienced in that regard."

He felt numb. 

"I don't understand." He said, ignoring the sympathetic glances of the nurses that flitted in and out of the room. "She was doin' just fuckin' fine."

"These ailments are unpredictable, son." She replied heavily, sparing him a considerate look. "There are no doctors experienced enough in our small town to deal with a complex illness like this, sad as I am to admit. We need someone from Lin Quo, where the general hospital is renowned for their excellent surgeons. It will be expensive, yes, but the expenditure will be more than worth it. We can only issue a plea for money, but we can't do any more." Her eyes softened. "I am sorry. I was only stating the facts-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand." He felt sick, seeing that expression on the face. The expression that told him that he was better off putting his mother off the lifeline without going through any trouble. It reminded him of the time his mother had taken him to visit his ailing grandmother, who had been fighting a vicious battle against cancer. He had seen it on his uncle's face as he had approached her bed. It rattled him, and there was nothing, abolutely nothing that he could do to raise money in a short span of time - there was no bloody way he could be able to raise a few hundred pounds in a month. 

Paralysis overcame him, and his vision clouded over as shock hit him headfirst. He leaned against the newly whitewashed wall, feeling isolated from the families that walked past him, holding new borns with delighted looks on their faces. These happy, whole families with kids and equally happy parents - they were a reality that was unknown to him. He didn't know how it was like to grow into adolescence under the guidance of a strong, wise father. To think that his mother was going to end up dead was too much for him to handle.

A nurse poked her head out.

"She is calling you. Please let it be brief, sir."

He walked into the room. She was laying there, smiling softly.

"I don't understand why you didn't take the medications, ma." He was more than a little pissed. Arriving home to find your mother lying by the bed without making even the tiniest sound tended to do that, he thought. His mother cupped his face with one calloused hand, which was pale and weak against the stark contrast of her green hospital garb. He leaned into the touch, willing his heart to calm down. His mother was all he had, really. There was no life after her. He hadn't even bothered to change his goddamn uniform. The hospital room smelled of misery, and his bag was tossed somewhere to the side by an unsuspecting nurse.

He wasn't really the sort of guy who'd pray, but he came to know what a prayer really was when he was in the waiting room, even as his mother was being stabilized in the emergency room. Now, the same woman who had stood by him all these years was smiling at him, albeit weakly. Her eyes were crinkled at the corners. His heart almost collapsed in itself, when he took note of the numerous wrinkles that seemed to outline that smile. Was she that frail, that weak now that she could scarcely stand by herself?

"You worry too much, Hong Fā." Her tone was one of reproach and good humour, but it didn't fool him in the slightest. When the door creaked open, he shot a piercing glare over his shoulder. The nurse stood by the doorway, unimpressed with his haggard appearance.

"Visitors, relatives or otherwise, are forbidden to meet patients after five."

"Stop it, son." His mother smoothened the collars of his shirt, her lovely chesnut hair spilled over the pillows. Calming down, he looked at her.

"Ma, why didn't you take the medication-"

"Don't worry about it." His mom interjected. He wasn't fooled.

"Don't lie to me." He spoke quietly. "You ran out of medicines, didn't you? You didn't want to tell me about it either-"

"Son-"

"Damn it, ma!" He stood up jerkily, snatching his arm from hers. "You are not going to pull that kind of shit again! Do you know how fuckin' worried I was? If you need anything, jus'-jus' tell me, alright? Don' worry about the damn money."

Pissed off at himself for being careless, and even more angry at him mother for being the selfless woman she was, he stormed out the room, nearly colliding with the nurse that stood in the doorway like some kind of a watchguard. He could feel his mother's eyes sadly trailing after him as he rushed out. And he rushed out, because in moments like these, it was the only thing he could do. Climbing down the wet hospital steps, he flung his bag onto the mostly abandoned road, watching as the zipper tore open under the sheer force of his manhandle and the books in it fly out. 

Hot, angry tears sprang out on impulse. This-this wasn't crying. He refused to call it that. If he had to give this suffocating emotion a name, guilt wouldn't suffice. This was more of a complicated mix of emotions that threatened to drown him. He felt like curling by the nearest shade, curling into a tight ball. At the moment, he wasn't ready to face the world. He didn't give a damn about his job, or his school.

It woukd have been just fine if the lack of medicines were all what the problem was, but no, it extended beyond that. 

He would have to extend his shifts or something. There was no bloody way he could raise up the sort of money she need in a month. There-there simply had to be another way.

-


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, he returned to school like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and it hadn't. No one pestered him about the dark circles around his eyes – a tired, momentary glare was enough to shut down all the pointless interrogation. They painted for a few hours after class, and by the end of it, his tendons and musculature were screaming with pain.

By midday, the west end classrooms were freshly painted and the gaggle of students had surreptitiously ceased to be. Several were returning paint cans and equipment back to the storage rooms, chattering like an idle bunch the whole time. An instructor came out onto the field, sweating like a pig as he gesticulated for the students to leave. They were closing the gate soon. 

"Alright, you lot, pack up and don't bother loitering around."

He breathed slowly, attempting to balance the weight of two pails of overflowing paint cans by himself. It was a long way back to the storage; the only shortcut that could be taken was through the ground, under the scorching sun. Sweat beaded down his forehead, trickling down like nobody's business. Someone fell into step beside him, feet crunching on grass, and he didn't bother turning around to know who it was. As it was, trouble ultimately found him in the end. Perhaps He Tian incessantly annoying him was going to be a daily routine, one which he was going to get tired of fast. 

"Are you that jobless?" He challenged, kicking a stray can that was in his path. It rolled away with a resonant clang that caused heads to turn.

"Hey, hey, if I wanted a bitch, I'd have bought a dog." He could feel He Tian's gaze boring into the side of his head. "You look like you could use a little help."

"I am not your fuckin' bitch, so you should get lost."

"Someone's touchy today." He Tian laughed, grabbing the nape of his neck. The motion startled him, and he wanted to dump both the cans onto the bastard's feet. Maybe that would teach him not to fuck around with him. "You look like shit. Anything special?"

He felt queasy. He'd been trying to forget all about the agonizing evening in class, trying to remove those glazed eyes from his memory by allowing the history teacher's drone to wash over the white noise in his head – it was slowly driving him to insanity, a feat he'd never thought could be accomplished. He looked at the bastard with hatred. And now this asshole had to bring it up. He Tian smiled back at him, hand still on the nape of his neck.

"Do you want me to break you wrist?" He asked. 

"I have been letting you off too easily now. Did you forget that I was the one supposed to be ordering you around?"

Oh yeah. He truly had forgotten. Sneering disparagingly, he jerked away from the bastard's touch, nearly spilling paint all over his white track pants in the process. He wanted to give him the finger, but in his current state, it couldn't practically be done. He chose to convey his displeasure with an irate look instead. Where most idiots would cower under his gaze, the bastard didn't back down. He didn't glare back, but the intense, strange stare came back. He felt a strange prickling on his skin consume him slowly life wildfire. His bravado was gone, just like that. All he found himself feeling was discontentment, and a vague yearning. 

"Why do you do that?" He asked, clenching his fists around the handle of the paint bucket. It wasn't even that heavy.

"Do what?" The ball was thrown back into his court.

"Look at me weird, fucktard. Are repressed or somethin'?"

"Are you trying to control what I do?" The infamous smirk was back. How bedazzling, he thought, irked.

"Whatever shithead you are thinking of when you are lookin' at me, don't let me near them." He said finally, walking past the bastard. A hand clamped around his wrist, nearly making him fall on his face. Fury simmering like a slow fire under his skin, he collided with a chest, paint cans rolling on the ground, spilling aquamarine blue all over the verdant grass.

Onyx, decadent eyes met his, fiery and silent. He gazed right back. They were of the same height. 

"Let go of me." He said quietly. Those pitch black eyes roamed all over his face, greedily drinking up every feature. They flickered down to his lips for a moment, before floating back up to his eyes.

"Your lips..." He Tian said. "They are like that of a girl's."

"You offended me, you fuckin- I'm more man than you'll ever be, bastard!" He gritted back. "Your eyes remind me of a chick in heat. Drives me crazy." 

He hadn't realized the obvious, glaring mistake he had made, until he was too late. They were already on a roll, and He Tian's eyes had dilated in interest. He found himself being pushed back, back and back and there was no stopping. Even as his eyes hooded surreptitiously in the heat, he allowed himself to be pushed back in a bizarre fit of insanity. A few words had charged the atmosphere between him. 

When he wound his hands in He Tian's collar, the asshole's face showed surprise. It was a good look on him, he thought vengefully, before smashing his forehead against the shithead's. With the sheer force of the hit, both of them were sent reeling back from each other, He Tian clutching his forehead and laughing, before he yanked into dangerous territory again. It felt a lot like cleansing away all the pointless angst swirling away like a kaleidoscope of colours in his head.

"Don't misunderstand." He panted against the smirking lips. "If you do, I'll cut you up into a million fuckin' pieces and feed them to the crows."

"Empty threats." He Tian reproached, drawing him closer, under the shade of the tree. "Don't worry about your manliness – I'll take it by the time you are done with me."

After that, all words ceased to be. He searched for them, but couldn't find any, not when they were standing too close. The heat plastered their drenched shirts to skin, and made it brutal. Every sensation that tore into his body silently was magnified, and he simply assessed the bastard with neutral eyes. His mind was scrambling for reason, logic, anything to get past the damned indifference his body was having to his rebelling thought that he should be getting away. He Tian returned as sly look, widening his smirk.

"Are you trying to intimidate me, red? How nice." There was a slow drawl in the bastard's voice that he absolutely hated.

"If I wanted to intimidate you, sonofabitch, I'd have done that a long time ago."

"Funny." He Tian let him go all of a sudden, pulling back with a casual clear of his throat. "I'd like to see how you'd bite me. You aren't forgetting anything, are you?"

"Stop playin' around, you bastard." He grappled He Tian's collar, bringing him closer. There was no one in the ground to witness this heated round of bullets – he was oblivious to that at the particular moment. "If you say another word, I'll bite your tongue off."

"What an interesting choice of words." In a blur, lean, strong, iron fingers wound around his wrist violently, twisting it to a lethal point where he let out a hiss of surprised, stunned pain. As the pressure built up and the fingers changed the angle of the twist in sadistic move, tears sprang to his eyes in excruciation. "A word of advice – don't mess with me."

He swallowed the lump stuck in his throat, his breaths tremoring. 

"Leave me." He said lowly. "Leave me and fuck off. Or I'll swear to god I'll cut you up."

"You weren't this confrontational last time you and I got crazy. Let me reward you with an A for you effort." Saying that, the bastard wrung his wrist. The shock of pain was brilliant; he lunged into He Tian, taking him aback. Two teenage boys, having a playful fight out in the sun. They both rolled on the moist, freshly watered grass.

That was what anyone would assume if both of them were in their periphery, but it was nothing of the sort. It was a struggle for power, and one of pride. 

In a dazed, delirious haze, he registered He Tian's grip loosening in surprise. An opportunity was revealed, and he took advantage of it.

He shoved his hand into He Tian's pants, blindly groping for his dick. There was a perverse moment of confounded silence, where both of them froze simultaneously mid-action, his hand cupping a dick that wasn't his. It was another, whole new level of crazy weird he hadn't debated experiencing. He could see the thunderstruck expression on the bastard's face. Fuck it. His grip tightened involuntarily.

He'd have stressed 'involuntarily' at that moment. It was the turning point, he would have said. The moment everything went to utter hell and was hilariously ironic. Karma sure bit the asses of those who never repented, he thought gleefully. He still had nightmares about his legs being splayed apart forcefully and balls being twisted. He Tian, it seemed, was shaking, covering his face with an arm. 

"Yeah, shake in fear." He sneered contemptuously, before frowning. "Hey, you asshole, I am about to give you back your own shit."

Something pulsed in his hand, and his head blanked out for a moment. That was the moment when He Tian grinned foxily, eyes mirthful.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Horrified as He Tian's dick jerked in his hands once again, he drew his hand out as fast as a thunder bolt, nearly going backwards and smashing the base of his skull on the grass. He Tian's hands steadied his hips, but the bastard was laughing uncontrollably as his horror grew.

"You are fuckin' sick, you bastard." He screamed, trying to yank his body away from the bastard, but the iron grip that He Tian had on his hips indicated that he wouldn't be budging for a long time. He floundered for several seconds to get control of the scuffle, but He Tian hauled him forward, and he fell on him.

"Hey, did I forget to mention that I was addicted to pain?" The bastard sounded like he had been stuffing his throat with – fuck, the imagery was beyond unnecessary at the moment. 

"A fuckin' lot, you sick freak!" He echoed, scandalized. He drew back, searching the bastard's face.

He Tian's carefree, careless gaze soon turned into one of agitation.

"What-" He opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat as thighs clamped around his body, twisting it sideways and flipping him around powerfully. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the grass and there was a sickening crack that nearly deafened him. Eyes wide, he stared into He Tian's slack face. The bastard's eyes rolled back, and he swayed mid-air for a moment. Wetness dribbled onto his cheek, and he realized with a start that it was blood. He Tian slumped lifelessly against his chest.

"What the hell?" He began weakly, and went rigid when a familiar face obscured his view of the sky.

"We meet again, Hong Fā." Lay Yin smiled unpleasantly. He held up a blunt bat. "Knew it was a good idea to follow you into the school grounds. What can we do now? You don't mess with the kids of our school, you know that."

He was fucked. And judging by the way He Tian was bleeding his brains out, the bastard already was.


	10. Chapter 10

There was a momentary, strangled silence where both the opponents of the figurative battlefield stared down at one another. He ignored He Tian's dead weight sliding off his chest as he straightened his torso, looking up at the problematic, wannabe douchebag standing in front of him, having the gall to jut out his hip cockily. 

"What?" Lay Yin snickered, swinging his bag toward him like a toy. He had the presence of mind to lean back before it smacked him in the face. He was pissed off, alright.

"What do you want?" He asked, voice a low timbre. "It had better be a good one, you bastard."

"What I want, eh?" Lay Yin echoed him, coming down to a casual, deceptive crouch. He casted a surreptitious glance over the douche's shoulder, to see if any of Lay Yin's lackeys were coming. He spotted none. Was the bastard asking for a death wish? He cracked his knuckles languidly, Lay Yin's gaze zeroing in on the motion.

"Oh no you don't." He murmured dangerously, looking up at Lay Yin. "You interrupted my fight, asshole." The waters between them were murky with hatred, and electric tension swathed the atmosphere. It was the kind that questioned which snake was poised to strike first. Malice ran rampant through him; why the fuck did he have to deal with this shit when he wasn't asking for it? In the face of his mother's condition and the necessity for money, all other petty problems and fights seemed to fade to a bland echo of what they had been earlier. 

"Be glad I took care of that." Lay Yin scoffed, edging closer towards him. "Who is he? A minion? An enemy? Doesn't matter, 'cause your ass is mine."

Minion? He cocked a dark eyebrow, wondering whether Lay Yin was truly out of it. He didn't know whether the guy had a penchant for pain, arriving at a time where his hands itched for a fight. Working the crick out of his neck he thought about how somebody's blood was going to get spilt, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be his. 

"Uh, I don't think you are in any position to fight against me, Hong Fā." Lay Yin remarked sardonically, and he stared at the delusional fucker with incredulity.

"And why's that, shitstain?" He sneered. "Too afraid to dirty your hands? Will mommy deares' make ya jizz your pants in fear?"

"Shut up." Lay Yin was red in the face, and he got onto his feet, steeling his shoulders. "I'll beat you to a pulp." 

The promise hung viciously in the air, poison dripping off of the words. Had he been a lesser person, he would've flinched at the commandeering personality that Lay Yin seemed to exude - but the guy had no brains, only brawn. This little interlude had made him miss the only bus route to his neighbourhood, and a glance to his watch told him that it was three. For that alone, he was going to pulverize Lay Yin.

"I'll kill you, little bitch. You cost me a fuckin' ride back home." He said murderously, advancing towards Lay Yin. "That asshole lying over there is mine to mess with, and you've jus' pissed me off."

"Oh, I am shaking in fear." Lay Yin cooed, gesticulating towards the motionless body with his bat. "And what the fuck are you going to do, Hong Fā? Choke on his underwear?"

Oh, that son of a bitch was going down.

Senses sharpening in a quicksilver second, he ducked as the bat cleanly swerved over him. That would have taken his head off. 

"Looks like you want the punch." He sneered. "Well then, I'll show you your fuckin' punch!"

His grabbed Lay Yin by his collar, before slamming his head against the bastard's skull. There was an explosion of white where he momentarily lost track of his equilibrium and fell back, trying valiantly to regain momentum. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lay Yin clutching his head like he's had an aneurysm, and he shook his head to get rid of the dizziness, before lifting the dropped bat.

"Hey there, fucker! 7'o clock!" He savoured the faint surprise that Lay Yin showed, before he smashed the blunt end into the fucker's face. He was promptly rewarded with the morbid sight of that pudgy, red-splotched nose caving in. Lay Yin tripped over his own feet clumsily, crashing into the bramble bushes behind him with an envious speed. 

He swiped at the blood dribbling down from the corner of his mouth, hoisting the bat up his shoulder and looking down at the offender, who was currently curled up into a tight ball, clawing desperately at the thorns that clung to his exposed skin. They didn't call him a demon with flaming red hair for nothing. It was nice to live up to his delinquent expectations from time to time. He cocked his eyebrow at the random, uninspired swear words he heard, before spitting a wad of blood and saliva on the grass. 

"You have a lot of blood to spare, and I ain't afraid to spill it." He pointed the bat at Lay Yin. "Think twice before comin' 'round to mess with me, shitstain."

He looked back over his shoulder at He Tian's lifeless body, before entertaining a brief thought of stuffing the body in a duffle, throwing it down a cliff and blaming Lay Yin, before he disspelled the wishful thought. Too troublesome, he deduced, halting to a crouch before He Tian's unconscious frame. The bastard's brows were pinched in pain; probably the last expression he must've had before Lay Yin had knocked him cold. He tugged on one strangely soft earlobe, before frowning.

The bastard was bleeding out like a stuck pig. He touched He Tian's head, before pulling his hand back idly. When he was greeted with the the sight of blood smeared over his fingers in generous amounts, he swore. All thoughts of torturing He Tian evaporating, he gingerly lifted the bastard's head, before running his fingers through the base of the bastard's skull, finding the hair matted with thick blood. Alarm seized his chest in a confounding moment, and he looked intensely at He Tian's unresponsive features, even as his mouth ran dry.

"Don' go dead on me jus' yet, you bastard." It was sheer luck he hadn't been in the trajectory of the bat, he thought. But there was something else besides that, a persistent thought that nagged him. The abrupt realization steered clear all the chaotic thoughts fluttering around in his head, and he instinctively gripped He Tian's jaw.

"Asshole." He muttered, heart thundering. "You took it for me, didn't you? You took the goddamn hit. Sonofabitch, you saw him comin' from the back—"

He hoarsely called out for help, voice faltering in a way he hadn't meant for it to, before realizing soberly that school was out and that the clinic had probably shut it for the day. He hauled He Tian up onto his shoulder, shutting out Lay Yin's delirious groans of pain. His own head ached brilliantly from the force of the headbutting he had done - perhaps he'd went overboard with that. 

Fuck, he's heavy. The thought was accompanied by a struggle to lock the bastard's flailing legs around his waist, and he wasn't shy to call He Tian a goat-fucker out loud when the bastard's right shoe poked him in the shin, eliciting a sharp, torturous pain. He had to get a cab fast, if not a bus — which was a hopeless situation anyway, considering that they had missed potential rides at the only bus station in sight, near Mei's stop for rice dumplings and dragon fruits.

Trudging through the road under the sweltering heat of the sun, He Tian's head drooped down to hang a little lower over his shoulder. He angled his head to the side, nose brushing against He Tian's cheek. Scowling, he snapped his gaze to the road, ignoring the rhythmic, humid breath over his collarbone.

"You kinda deserved to get all knocked up." He muttered. "You shouldn't have intervened, bastard. This was between him an' me."

There was no reply, and he wondered about the surreality of the situation.

"You aren't gonna be in a coma or some scary shit like that, are ya?" He demanded, voice rough. He was met with dead silence. There was no way the bastard had died on him, had he? The logical part of him banished the thought as suddenly as it had come, as soft, warm breaths skated across his skin. It was all the proof he needed, but he wasn't able to name the tight feeling that resided in his chest.

"I am not worryin'." He said aloud. "I won't, not for a smartass shit like you, you bastard. Or for any fucker. I don' worry."

He blew a stand of red hair that hung over his right eye.

Don' die on me.

Bikers rushed past them, smoke billowing out of their exhausts, before he gave in and asked for a free ride.

They made to the hospital in no time, and a nurse ushered him outside, before giving him a strange, brief appraisal. He absently looked at his hands, feeling oddly bereft when they had taken He Tian away from him. 

"Aren't you the son of a patient we'd had yest—"

"Fuck off." He said roughly, leaving her speechless as he ran down the stairs. There was only so much shit he could tolerate in a day. Save him from prying nurses and the rest of the gossipy spawn. He Tian could rot in here by himself. He'd done his business, anyhow.  
                                    
                  

▪There are forty-fifty chapters in approximation.  
▪I appreciate every single response I am getting, so vote and comment on the chapters that you liked, so I can create more of those.


	11. Chapter 11

Routine was becoming boring, and he had to watch with bleary eyes that spoke of exhaustion as the toaster burned the remaining bread, tooting triumphantly, even as the milk in the casserole overflowed from the heat.

Yeah, his concentration was elsewhere. They really needed to replace the stupid piece of equipment in their kitchen. He felt like kicking it out, and then sleeping in late untill eleven. His ma was at the hospital, being fussed over by the nurses there. But she'd called him at six, asking for her son to 'get out of that bed, I know you are still in there'. Gods, there was no winning with that hard-boiled woman. 

"Hong Fā!" Nianzu slapped his shoulders, and he returned the gesture as they crossed each other in the corridors. It was still too early for the students to be pouring into the classes in a configurative heap, but there were a sizable smattering of students about. Some of the girls were sitting on the desks, swinging their stocking-clad legs back and forth as they laughed and gossiped. The sound of metal doors being pried open, and groans that accompanied with it greeted him as he went past the lockers. All the time, he kept his eyes firmly trained ahead. Fang greeted him with a toothy grin.

"Ay, what's up, man? You look down."

"It's the mornin'." He replied flatly. "It does stuff with my brain. Fuck, I dunno. Can I skip on that dumb algebra class?"

"Algebra's fine." The wiry-looking kid told him dismissively. "Now calculus, that's the real shit you'll have to pray not to do fuck up in. I went through my sister's book yesterday. By far the worst, man."

"An' what were you doin' with your sister's text?" He rolled his eyes as Fang jabbed his elbow into his chest. 

"Nah. Mom's just prepping me for that entrance exam and shit. Real competitive, and if I don't want to end up like that uncle of mine, I have to get in some nice college. And hey, didja hear? Sui from the opposite class saw He Tian in the hospital yesterday."

"Heard it." He said morosely, masking his immediate reaction, hands in his pockets as Fang moved to his locker. "Did the chick offer herself as sacrifice or somethin'? Big deal - the bastard got beat up. It's not the end of the world."

"Hey wait a sec, it's kind of weird." Fang knitted his eyebrows together pensively. "You weren't really up to speaking up untill I mentioned He Tian. Ah man, he really is getting to you, isn't he?"

"You lookin' for a black eye or what?" He growled.

"Careful! Those batty teachers have ears." Fang breathed out, struggling to pry open his locker door. "Oh, why does this door. Refuse. To-" Another ancient groan. "Open!"

The rickety locker gave way to a gargantuan whine as it was forcibly opened, and he winced at the insuppressible goosebumps -the unpleasant kind-that rose with the noise.

"Anyway, the guy's lucky. Heard he moved into the Shang-Pei apartments earlier this year. Like, have you seen how it's like?!"

He bit back any reply. Yes, he had. Involuntarily at that, and had been forced to cook in an utterly humiliating move, even as the bastard scrutinized him with lascivious eyes the entire time. 

"Guess I'll see you later, dude."

The bell clanged, signalling the start of the first class.

"Get back to your classes!" Some prefect yelled. "Get inside!"

\---

In the recess, he found himself standing in front of He Tian's homeroom class. The bastard's seat was empty, and there was no sign of any bags hooked to the side. This was the fourth day He Tian hadn't come to school. He balled his fists, jerking away from the door like he was burned. Why did he keep coming back?

\---

The restaurant owner scanned him with owl like eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed spectacles.

"Eh, you are asking me for more shifts?"

"Yeah." He said gruffly. "I am in a stick now, Bai-Lu. Need money to keep up."

"I don't know." Bai Lu scatched his bare scalp absently. "I mean, we are already keeping up just fine. But it sounds like you really need the money. What for?"

He hesitated. Revulsion struck back. There was no point in holding on to pride. Was it going to save his mother from becoming mincemeat? It really wasn't going to help, not one bit. 

"Ma's in surgery."

"Sorry to hear that man. Tell you what, I can extend three nights for you, if you want. All delivery services. Can you handle it, with school?"

No, he wanted to say. His finals were coming up, and he was already more than burned out from lethargy. His mouth betrayed him instinctively. "Yeah, sure. Give me the timin'."

\---

As he waited outside the shop, leaning against a post and gazing at the overcast sky, he thought of the confrontation he had had with Lay Yin the other day. Was the asshole planning something? Like he didn't have enough on his plate already. A red scooter with an emblazoned sign of the shop was sitting a few feet away from him, newly oiled and all revved up. The first day of his delivery shift had begun, and he wasn't sure if he could handle dropping off sixteen deliveries in one night, like he had seen some guys at the station do. Bai-Lu had assured him that he was only having a few this night.

The man poked his head out of the diners, pushing his specs up before handling him a last package and a long slip containing addresses.

"Drive safely." He said patting him on the back. "Hurry back soon and park it back in the cabin. You know where it is."

"Yeah." He muttered stiffly. "Thanks." The word sounded foreign and out of place in his mouth. It was unfamiliar, leaving a foul taste in him mouth that he was unable to get rid off. He didn't look back as he swung himself onto the bike seat, hitting the pedal. The blood-curdling roar as the bike came to life wasn't unfamiliar to him, he had driven state of the art trucks when he was underaged at his grandfather's ranch out in the countryside.

The wind whistled past him as he descended on the road, driving past the few sparse vehicles with a certain sort of ease that had him thrilled, excited and full of life. It spurred his mind, and he felt like he was draining all the tension, all the damn stress and elevating to a new space as he sped past headlights and trees, feeling free.

He parked near the first cottage, and as soon as he rang the bell, the door shot open and something round and decidedly red whizzed past him. He jumped out of the way, unnerved.

"What the fuck?"

"Ahhh, mommy, he said a bad word." Two large innocent pools of eyes looking up at him under brown, tousled hair. "The F word. F-Fuck."

The kid giggled, before an embarrassed, flushed mother appeared before him, murmuring apologies as she took the chicken wrap from his hand and pressing a wad of cash in his right hand. The door slammed shut in his face, and he pulled the base of his palm over his nose in exasperation.

This was going to be an excruciating chicken delivery session.

\---

Two hours later, he was more than ready to revise the option as he stared holes through the gaudy piece of paper in his hand.

Shang-Pei apartments, 52-C. Why was it sounding so familiar? So...

Anyway, the guy's lucky. Heard he moved into the Shang-Pei apartments earlier this year. Like, have you seen how it's like?!

He took a few feeble steps through the neatly mowed lawn of the cottage, towards his bike. 

It had to be a coincidence. 

He knew that the bastard lived there, but that was not to disregard that there were other, hundreds of people in those buildings who might have had a sudden craving for chicken. Mind sent into a tailspin, he could only ride through the winding lanes in silence.

\---

￼


	12. Chapter 12

Fear wasn't stopping him. The war of wills that battled mercilessly in him was. The prominent ridge of his throat bobbed in an uncharacteristic show of emotions, and every step that he took towards the elevator felt heavy and final — he loathed the repugnant feeling with emotion. The cadence of his heart increased as the elevator rose steadily, every storey it passed providing a magnificent, widening view of Hangzhou in all her lighted, blazing glory in the night. Sweat broke across his neck in rivulets, and he vaguely considered taking his helmet off. No, it provided him with a flimsy semblance of control and anonimity.

Don't be stupid. A voice in him whispered harshly. Firmly. He's not gonna be the next one. This is just a coincidence.

But his gut twisted in elaborate ways, bringing all sorts of feeling bubbling up within him, so uncertain and intangible. It was almost as though he couldn't believe he was in this moment. With trembling fingers — he still wasn't sure why they were juddering sodamnmuch — he lifted the coarse, low quality slip with the serrated edges, eye falling on the last address in the list.

Shang-Pei apartments, 52-C.

52-C. He strode out of the lift with the plastic bag, eyes automatically scanning through the number plates aligned neatly near the large, oak doors that seemed to swallow the huge walls. 64-B, 65-B, 66-B....This wasn't B. He ran through the corridor, the muscles of his legs flexing and uncoiling painfully as he swiftly rushed past each gargantuan door, feeling out of place like an oyster in an octopus. The long expanse of corridor ended with 49-B and a set of stairs going downward, and he took in a sharp breath, his damp breath clouding the visor of his helmet.

Ten seconds later, he was in front of 50-C. Another four seconds, and he was frozen at the familiar doormat in front of fucking 52-C, with a blank face. It was as though his body wasn't receptive of what his mind told him, and the packet of foil-packed hot chicken swung listlessly in his hand, as though wanting to jump into the safe hands of the asshole who had ordered it. Well, fuck the goddamn chicken. He wasn't—he wasn't thrilled about customer satisfaction anyway. He was going to call it quits. 

Biting back a litany of curses, his thumb found the blood red bell button, and pushed it. He could hear the ringing from within, a faint audible series of tinkles, and prepared to dump the chicken and run. He was apprehensive of what he might see. Shit, what if Lay Yin had hit the bastard too hard that the pathetic guy was bedridden? It wasn't like he had hung around and shit to see how  He Tian's condition was when the bastard had woken up. Maybe the guy was going to unleash his anger on the next idiot who appeared in front of his goddamn face. The helmet added additional protection then, he thought soberly. He sure as hell wasn't going to go down without a decent fight—

The door swung open, and it was some kind of a stunned, heavenly miracle he didn't drop the packet onto the rubber mat.

"Goddamn."

He wasn't even aware that he had said that out loud, atleast he wasn't untill cool, red-rimmed eyes grazed over his face. A surefire, familiar little smirk that looked like it had seen better days. 

"I didn't know it shocks people to meet me for the first time." The source of most of his woes mused, leaning against the door way, and arching an eyebrow like he owned a kingdom. He dubiously stared at the fresh, white line of cloth wrapped securely around He Tian's temple, damp strands of dark, dark hair framing it in wispy lines.

He Tian had donned on a pair of sinfully tight, threadbare shorts that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It rode below the hard jut of the bastard's hipbones, causing him to gape openly. 

That gaze floated lazily down to the packet, before climbing back up and looking at his head. Or rather, his helmet. 

"Ah yes," The drawl was back, and it was almost a seductive purr. "The chicken." Oh Gods, it sounded perverse on his tongue.

Just take the goddamn chicken and let me leave. 

As though he had heard his mind, He Tian levelled him with a gaze that was nothing short of taunting, before smirking enigmatically.

"The incognito look isn't really the look this summer." Slender fingers ripped open the lid of a beer tin. "The girls will tell you. Seriously, chicken-boy, what's up with the helmet?"

He thrust out the packet and a piece of paper for He Tian to sign, not trusting himself to say a word as relief flooded him in a paralyzing rush, turning his legs into two automated sticks that attempted to keep balance. 

Fuck, the bastard doesn't realize it's—

"You know, you're pretty silent for a delivery guy. About time those guys hired someone who doesn't gossip like a bat." He Tian took one deep swig from the beer can, slender throat juddering smoothly as the liquid went down. This close, he could see some honey-like, bronze droplets escaping down the bastard's chin, down the delicate line of the pale neck.

Did the bastard have a habit of opening his door half-naked?

There was a brief pause which dragged on as He Tian assessed him with calculating eyes, and he could've sworn that there was an unnatural sharpness in that gaze, before it morphed into something playful. 

"I have many other promises for your manager." He Tian's tone had changed in a heartbeat, and this time, his eyes were positively sinful as his tone dropped to a rich, sultry, husky contralto. His heart skipped a beat. "And I'd like to look for other...delicious options. Something juicy and fiery upon my tongue. Creamy and elegant."

Dazed, the grip he had on the packet loosened.

"I must be making no sense to you." Just like that, the unanimous spell was broken, smashed into smithereens as He Tian reared back, running deft, artful fingers through his hair. "But I'd wager that you'd like to taste these things." He Tian looked at him from beneath his lashes. The hot, addictive brand of sheer lust was back with a vengeance, and the attraction sparked the air between them with renewed vigor. He curled his fingers, trying to keep himself from lashing out, from acting out on his instincts. The helmet his head was covered by gave him a false sense of relief.

"You must be cold." The door creaked inaudibly as He Tian leaned on it, face hovering near his. "Come inside and maybe I can get you all nice and toasty."

Oh Gods. The bastard's voice ripped through the measly barrier he had constructed around his sanity, and the only thing that he wanted to do was to get all that exposed skin bitten and marked and raw and red, and He Tian moaning in sheer pleasure as he came hard and fast.

Then there was a hand on his collar, and he was yanked in through the door way. A door slammed shut as his eyes adjusted to the dim, vignette light of a wall lamp. The chicken packet fell onto the fall, bouncing harmlessly and breaking the sudden spell he had been under in a heartbeat. A hand on the small of his back, pulling him in.

"Take off the helmet." The voice was a rich, smoky contralto, and the shapely expressive black eyes were even more so. "Are you trying to prove a point?"

He remembered who this was, and where exactly he was, before all but ripping off the helmet from his head and nearly tearing his head off in the process. He gave an ugly sneer, appraising the blood stained linen.

"Why'd I ever wanna prove a point with you?" He threw the helmet onto the sofa. "I could jus' as easily hammer it in. Like some Lay Yin dipshit had."

"Is that why you came here?" He Tian asked, tone dangerous. "To get answers? Collaborative efforts?"

"What the fuck are you yammerin' on about?"

"That Yin guy who'd jumped into the scene. Is he in one of your cute little squads?" He Tian drawled, falling back on the sofa seat and draping his bare arms across it. "I guess you came back to finish the job. Too bad. I thought you had potential."

"Wha—are you for real?" He asked, incredulous. Accusations? From where the hell did they come from? The bastard had the nerve to imply he staged it on purpose?! 

"Just confirming." He Tian took another swig, before getting up. "You wouldn't do that — I mean, if you did, you'd be dead."

And wasn't that a bloody consolation?

"I was jus' doin' my job." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you've jus' given me a hell of a headache. You'll pay for that at school." With that, he grabbed his helmet, before making a move towards the door.

"Not so fast." He Tian's belligerent voice made him stop abruptly. He breathed in slowly, before turning around. The asshole raised the can of beer in a mock-toast, before grinning at him.

"Take me to the central park."

He spluttered. "I am not your goddamn cabbie! Are you outta your mind? I'll fuckin' kill you if you say anythin' more."

"You wouldn't." He Tian reassured him blithely. "It's five minutes away."

\---

￼

**Author's Note:**

> http://my.w.tt/UiNb/7L21LABF7t   
> Wattpad updates are frequent. I go by the pseud 'sumi-chi' there. Please contact me if you want to translate my work.


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